


Seemingly Random Act of Thoughtfulness

by LilyOrchard, MikailaT



Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [7]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Book: War Crimes - Christie Golden, Comfort Food, Drabble, Drinking, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyOrchard/pseuds/LilyOrchard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikailaT/pseuds/MikailaT
Summary: Anevay notices Vereesa Windrunner lingering around Lordaeron during the trial of Garrosh Hellscream. A strange occurrance, as she had never seen a reason to visit before. Curious. Very curious.
Relationships: Sylvanas Windrunner & Original Character(s)
Series: Anevay Darkflare - Horde Champion [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939501
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Seemingly Random Act of Thoughtfulness

**Year 31 - The Trial of Garrosh Hellscream**

This whole trial was an unbelievable shitshow, Anevay thought. That the Horde was expected to defend Hellscream made it clear to her that the August Celestials had no interest in justice and were, in fact, playing some kind of sick and twisted game. She’d seen enough of their machinations during the campaign that she could recognize some kind of ironic lesson about to come their way. She said as much to the others, but as usual only Sylvanas had even bothered to listen. 

She had retreated to a bar set up outside the temple during one of the mane recesses the trial had taken to down an entire tankard of Pandaren beer when she heard raised voices coming from a side chamber. Lady Proudmoore and her pet dragon were arguing again. She could hear something from Kalec about Jaina clinging to her hatred.

A year ago she might have felt sympathy toward Jaina. Now she only smirked as she listened to Kalec belittle her. All her sympathy for Jaina had dried up after she marched through Dalaran, executing Sin’dorei civilians for something they had nothing to do with. Anevay had been immediately ported _to_ Dalaran just to prevent her from killing absolutely everybody. She nursed a still healing scar from where she’d taken an ice lance to the shoulder. That injury was not fun to deal with while fighting Garrosh.

Anevay might not have chosen to live in Quel’Thalas for quite some time, but that did not mean her love for the Sin’dorei was completely gone. It was simply a more… professional relationship. She would answer the call to defend her homeland and it’s people should the need arise, but she did not see a future for herself with them. That sense of home and belonging resided in Lordaeron now. 

Aside from the shouting match, Anevay heard a bemused sound from the Pandaren that was tending to her tankard. 

“Trouble in Paradise from the sounds of it,” Chen said as he refilled Anevay’s cup to the brim.

“There’s always trouble in paradise with Lady Proudmoore,” Anevay laughed, taking a deep, indulgent gulp. “Hopefully this time I won’t be deputized to kill her boyfriend.”

Chen chuckled slightly at that. “Such is the price of power, it seems,” he mused. “You tend to attract the most turbulent of storms. It’s times like this that I am thankful my most fantastical trait is my brew.”

“Hmm,” Anevay nodded as she took another gulp. “Any idea how much longer this farce of a trial is going to go on?”

A pensive hum rumbled in the Pandarens throat as Chen stroked the fur on his chin. “I am not one to question or judge the order of things… but I believe that the Celestials are using this trial to impart a lesson onto everyone here. Therefore, the trial will end when the lesson is learned, I would say.” 

“Ugh. I have half a mind to kill Hellscream myself,” Anevay rolled her eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have let Thrall and Wrynn stop me. And when I heard what Baine did to the Dark Lady, I was about ready to carve that bastard up as well.”

“What did he do?” Chen inquired. 

“Grabbed both of her arms and threatened to rip them off for being mouthy,” Anevay said darkly.

Chen sucked air through his teeth as he poured a mug of brew for himself. “As my niece Li Li would say… yikes.” 

“Indeed,” Anevay nodded. She downed the rest of her beer and slid the tankard away. “My Queen says he’s an Alliance sympathizer and I’m inclined to agree. That bull has been strangely complacent about Alliance aggression. He even tried to have me reprimanded for fighting with Lady Proudmoore in Dalaran, the skeezy fuck.”

“It is always important to know when to compromise,” Chen offered as he raised his mug to his lips before pausing. “...At the same time, it is considered unwise to invite the ocean into one’s home when one has no gills.”

“Mmhmm,” Anevay nodded. The more she thought about it, the more she hated Baine. Cairne had been soft-hearted, but he knew when and where to draw the line. Baine, on the other hand, seemed to be so passive that he was more than content to sit on his hands than defend his people. She thought back to how Cairne had been the first to do something about Garrosh, challenging him to mak’gora, and how very unlike his father his son had turned out to be.

She was about to order another beer when a Blood Elf walked by and whispered in Anevay’s ear. Her ears twitched when she heard the report. Vereesa Windrunner had been seen at Windrunner Spire. A strange occurrence, Anevay thought, as Vereesa hadn’t so much as set foot in Quel’Thalas since the Blood Elves joined the Horde. 

“Excuse me, Chen. Looks like business has caught up with me,” Anevay smiled at the Pandaren and stood up.

“Of course,” Chen said with an understanding nod, collecting her empty tankard. “May pleasure find you in the wake of business, Lady Darkflare.” 

“I doubt it will, but thank you.”

* * *

Anevay read through the report she received from her contact in the Farstriders. Vereesa had in fact been at Windrunner Spire, but she wasn’t alone for very long. Sylvanas had also arrived and the two seemed to speak for a bit before Sylvanas departed. Much of Anevay’s worries vanished once she realized Sylvanas was involved, but a twinge of anxiety still remained. Sylvanas hadn’t spoken much about her sister in recent years, and it didn’t take Anevay long to infer why. The two of them simply hadn’t spoken. This was likely the first time Vereesa had so much as said a word to her sister in over a decade. On the one hand, it was good that Sylvanas was reconnecting with family. 

On the other hand, she dreaded what would happen if this went badly.

She’d been watching Sylvanas a little more carefully in the days that followed. She seemed to be just a little bit more energized, more focused. That was good, Anevay thought. Very good. But everything came to a head one morning when Sylvanas brought an unexpected visitor to the Undercity.

“I must say, this place is a lot… cleaner than I imagined it would be,” Vereesa’s voice came from the elevator.

Anevay whirled around to see Sylvanas leading Vereesa into the Trade Quarter. Odd, she thought.

“You wound me, Little Moon,” Sylvanas said with a playful grin. “Have you not always known me to to keep everything just so?” 

Vereesa chuckled softly. “You did always pitch a fit when I left my socks on the floor,” she conceded. 

Sylvanas and Vereesa were… bantering? Anevay didn’t quite know what to make of it, feeling like she was witnessing something of equal absurdity as a fish tap dancing. 

Sylvanas’ gaze fell upon Anevay, her face lighting up even further. Another rarity to the vast majority of Azeroth. “Ah! Champion! I was hoping to find you here.” She ushered her sister to follow her as they approached the blood elf. “Vereesa, you remember Anevay Darkflare, yes? She currently serves as one of my Champions of Lordaeron.”

“Uh… yes, I think I do,” Vereesa nodded. “What are you… wait, Champion of Lordaeron?”

“Yes, Lady Windrunner,” Anevay nodded, folding her hands behind her back. “I serve the Forsaken. I have done for the last three years.”

“Oh…” Vereesa tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowed as she appeared to be puzzling over something. 

“Is something the matter?” Anevay asked. 

“Oh, no! It’s just that… you don’t appear to be undead,” Vereesa said, her eyes narrowing as if she were looking for any subtle signs of unlife.

Sylvanas chuckled. “Lady Darkflare has yet to provide my Val’kyr the opportunity to raise her,” she said with a fond grin. “The woman is just too good at her job.”

“You flatter me, my Queen,” Anevay smiled as she bowed politely. “So to what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from the youngest Windrunner sister?”

Vereesa turned to Sylvanas, a silent question on her lips. 

The Dark Lady nodded, confirming that the information was safe to impart. 

“...I have decided to make Lordaeron… my new homestead,” Vereesa told Anevay.

“Have you? Wonderful,” Anevay smiled. “It’s nice to see more people realizing that Lordaeron is actually quite a lovely place to live.”

“It’s already exceeded my expectations,” Vereesa said, looking around to find the sight of undead around her not unsettling her as deeply as she had feared.

“Well I can say from experience that the people here are lovely,” Anevay’s smile widened as she realized just how elated Sylvanas must be under her mask. “Almost as lovely as their Queen.”

Sylvanas quirked a brow. “Now who’s the flatterer, Darkflare?” 

Vereesa giggled gently at the sight of the banter between the two. “Well, it will certainly be nice to have another living person here to talk to. Not that I’m uncertain that the people here are lovely.” 

Anevay’s smile faltered only slightly at Vereesa’s backhanded remark. Oh that definitely wasn’t a good sign, she thought. “They are quite lovely. The abominations love it when you scratch their heads, by the way.”

Vereesa blinked, turning around to catch a glimpse of the patchwork guardians that they had passed on the way down here. “...Huh. I never would have guessed.” 

Sylvanas’ smirk, being much more warmer than the layman would intuit, did not waver. She turned her attention back to Anevay, a question ready on her lips. “Champion, would you be willing to accompany us as I show Vereesa around?”

“Of course, my Queen,” Anevay agreed. “I could never say no to you.”

“Lovely,” Sylvanas said, leading the company as she beckoned the other two forward. “Come. There is much ground to cover.” Vereesa smiled as she hurried after Sylvanas, her gaze shifting between their surroundings and her sister. 

As Anevay walked with them, she kept glancing between the two. Sylvanas seemed practically calm, but Vereesa’s expression was shifting constantly. Anevay had been taking additional lessons from Nathanos, and had learned to spot when someone was conflicted. Whatever agreement Vereesa had come to with Sylvanas, it was clear to her that Vereesa wasn’t completely on board with it. Her eyes shifted constantly and whenever she looked at the other Forsaken or their surroundings she looked practically uneasy.

“...So, Lady Windrunner,” she said. “What prompted you to make such a bold decision?”

Vereesa jumped slightly, surprised by the question. “Oh, well…” her eyes looked down to the cobblestone they walked upon before looking back up at Sylvanas. “...With everything I have lost recently… I had begun to realize just how deeply I missed my family.” 

Anevay nodded and said nothing else as the three of them walked in silence. After completing a round of the entire outer ring of the Undercity, Vereesa returned to the elevator and bade her sister goodbye. After the elevator was out of their sight, Sylvanas glanced at Anevay.

“You seem troubled,” she remarked.

“Oh?” Anevay said, turning toward her. “Oh, it’s… it’s nothing, my Queen. Thinking about the trial.”

“Ah,” Sylvanas said, a smile returning to her face. “Don’t worry about that, Champion. I have a feeling that little headache will be gone soon enough.” 

Anevay recognized that tone as well as that smile. The sure fire signs that the Dark Lady was absolutely up to something. “Dare I ask what it is that gives you that feeling, My Queen?”

“Let’s just say I’m not the only one of the Windrunner house with a particularly devious mind,” Sylvanas replied, her grin revealing her fangs emphatically. 

“Ah, I see,” Anevay nodded with a wicked smirk. “Good. I doubt those blasted Celestials are going to do anything about him. I can always count on you, my Queen.”

* * *

Anevay had ceased her monitoring of Vereesa after that meeting in the Undercity. After seeing how elated Sylvanas had become at the prospect of reuniting with her sister, Anevay didn’t have it in her to potentially rain on her Queen and friend’s parade. She was happy for Sylvanas, and it seemed as if this was something she sorely needed. She arrived at the Temple a few days later to see Vereesa whispering to Anduin Wrynn, the King’s son. This immediately sent up red flags to her, but she ignored them. As Vereesa left the Temple, Anevay approached the boy and watched as Garrosh was led in chains out of the trial hall.

“Wrynn,” she said politely.

Anduin whirled around to look at Anevay, surprise clear on his face. “Miss Darkflare!” he exclaimed. “I… hello. ...How’re you?”

“Ms, not Miss,” Anevay corrected him. “I’m eighty-nine. And I’m doing fine. How are you, Prince Anduin?”

“Oh, I’m… quite well I would say,” Anduin said, appearing somewhat nervous. 

It was then that the company escorting the chained Hellscream passed them down the hall. Disdainful yellow eyes looked over the both of them. 

The sight of Anevay was enough to make Garrosh’s blood boil. Everything that he had worked for, the True Horde that would conquer all of Azeroth, fueled by the blood of a creature beyond reckoning, thoroughly dashed by the Blood Elf who leered so smugly at him. What was worse was that even in her triumph over him, she did not grant him a warrior’s death. It seemed as though she were content to watch him waste away as this trial dragged for eons. But even then, he wasn’t sure if that was worse than Anduin. The boy who looked at Garrosh with absolute pity in his eyes. The priest who thought that, in the orc’s squalor, he could tame him with talks of peace and the Light and all that garbage. Every time the boy came to his cell to talk, he wished he could just beat the life out of him. To see him whimper and cry for mercy that would not come. 

He wanted nothing more than to kill the both of them… but he could not. So, glaring and harsh words were his only release.

Anevay smiled and waved, putting an extremely feminine lilt to her wrist as she did so, knowing it would infuriate Garrosh even more. He had always taken issue with the fact that someone he considered to be too frail to be a Warrior so frequently overpowered him. Many instances where he’d snidely remarked that Anevay would be better suited as a tavern girl than a Warrior, and Anevay had wiped the floor with him and his pet Old God with just her strength.

“So, what did Lady Windrunner want, anyway?” Anevay asked as she watched Garrosh growl and snarl.

Anduin opened his mouth, but hesitated. Anevay watched as a minor conflict could be seen battling in his eyes. Whatever he was about to say, he suddenly caught himself before saying it. Did he not want the blood elf to know? More to the point, did Vereesa not want her to know? Anduin looked around them before letting out a resolute breath. No. This was Darkflare. The woman who treated him with respect in the brief time she held him captive in the Horde base. She could be trusted. 

“I don’t wish to cause alarm, Lady Darkflare,” Anduin said, his voice low. “But there is someone who is trying to sabotage this trial. Lady Windrunner has told me that someone has poisoned Garrosh’ food. They’re going to kill him before the trial is complete!” 

“Are they? Wonderful!” Anevay smirked as she glanced at Garrosh, who swiftly vanished down the stairwell. “It’s no less than the bastard deserves. He’d probably view a judicial execution as a warrior’s death. I say anything that denies him that satisfaction is ideal.”

Anduin blinked, utterly thrown by Anevay’s response. “Lady Darkflare!” he exclaimed. “You’re not suggesting that we sit by and let this happen are you!?”

“Garrosh had Sin’dorei patrolling Orgrimmar in steel thongs for his own amusement,” Anevay scoffed. “Yes, I _am_ suggesting we sit by and let this happen.”

Anduin balked. “But… the Celestials have made the terms of this trial clear! If we take matters into our own hands without their blessing, who knows what they will do!”

“Anduin, just the other day I killed the most powerful Sha, AND an Old-God infused Orc,” Anevay said flatly. “Do you really think I’m scared of the August Celestials?”

Anduin opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Anevay had made her stance on the matter quite clear and her logic was difficult to argue with. “...Lady Darkflare, you can’t just solve all of Azeroth’s problems with death!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly what got us into this mess! We came together to stop Garrosh because we knew his way was wrong. We knew such evil means were not the way. What example would we be setting if we let this happen?” 

“That justice is something we actually believe in?” Anevay raised an eyebrow. “Or was I supposed to stop the Lich King by talking about our feelings?”

Anduin’s frown deepened, disappointment plain on his face. “...Well, I’m sorry, Lady Darkflare, but I can’t hold my tongue over this. I have to tell the others.” 

Anevay pursed her lips and scowled at the Prince. “Well if you feel so inclined. I think I’ll take my leave and return to the Undercity. Suddenly this temple is a touch too foul for my tastes.”

Anduin’s face fell even further. He didn’t even wish her farewell before he dashed down the hall as quickly as he could, which given his slight limp, wasn’t extraordinarily fast. Anevay sighed and shook her head. She knew exactly what Vereesa had told him. She had gone back on what was clearly a plan between her and Sylvanas.

She had betrayed her sister.

* * *

A few days had passed since Garrosh had escaped and so far nothing had happened in Lordaeron. Whatever panic had gripped Pandaria, the Alliance and the Horde, the Forsaken were largely unaffected by it. Things had been relatively quiet. Anevay quietly wondered what would come of Vereesa’s plans to live in Lordaeron with Sylvanas, and figured that she would be arriving any day to either finalize those plans or announce her refusal.

As she patrolled the outer forests of Lordaeron, she felt the ground underneath her feet grow more and more littered with bits of flesh. Had a darkhound been through here feeding on the wildlife again? She stopped in her path to see the pieces get bigger and bigger. There was even a severed wolf head lying on the ground.

Odd, she thought.

And then a piercing, blood-curdling scream tore through the air. It scraped off every surface around her and raked through Anevay’s ears like knives. She clapped her hands over them and stumbled, feeling not only a searing pain from the sound, but also a tightness in her chest. It suddenly became difficult to breathe, and she could have sworn the ground underneath her feet was a lot brighter in color than it had been before. She was back in Quel’Thalas, on the hill overlooking Fairbreeze village, listening to that awful, ear-tearing sound. It was such agony, and she couldn’t look away from-

Wait…

She snapped out of her flashback as a realization struck her. That was a banshee’s wail. A very specific banshee’s wail that she would recognize anywhere. The scream came from Sylvanas, and Anevay would bet anything this trail of carnage had come from her too. The Banshee Queen was in a frenzy. She was distraught. The way her wail tore through the wilderness and shook Anevay to her very core was proof of that. But why? 

_“Lady Windrunner has told me that someone has poisoned Garrosh’ food. They’re going to kill him before the trial is complete!”_

_“Let’s just say I’m not the only one of the Windrunner house with a particularly devious mind.”_

Anevay’s eyes widened and her heart sank, the foundations of an explanation being erected in her mind. An explanation she very much did not like.

She tore off in the direction the carnage led, practically flying through the trees and deeper into the forest. As she got deeper, her boots stomped through spider bits and the entrails of larger animals. Even a few Scarlet Crusade members were practically disemboweled and scattered across the grass. She kept running until she came to a small cliffside that led down into a small valley. Taking cover behind a tree, she watched Sylvanas down below practically clawing her way through a small herd of murlocs.

Her suspicions were confirmed. She was indeed distraught. Her entire body was emanating smoke and she was struggling to maintain corporeal.

As she leaned out for a better look, her foot brushed something. Looking down, a piece of parchment was crumpled up on the ground. Stopping down to pick it up, she unfurled it and read through the contents. It was a letter from Vereesa, detailing how she had changed her mind on living in Lordaeron and had decided to stay in Dalaran. At once, Anevay clapped a hand over her mouth as she read through the letter in horror. Vereesa had told her this through a _letter_? Had not even the spine to come to Lordearon and tell her sister personally? Simply reading the parchment was enough to make her already fiery blood rise to a boil. She couldn’t even imagine what it would have done to Sylvanas. 

Then suddenly, everything fell deathly silent. The carnage, the wailing, all of it came to an abrupt end. The silence was enough to snap Anevay out of her thoughts and redouble her efforts in staying out of sight.

She watched as Sylvanas returned to her physical form, the wisps of dark magic around her carried to oblivion by the slight breeze. She simply stood there, surrounded and coated by the death she wrought. Her face bore an almost serene expression that was betrayed by the gore she was splattered with. For a moment, it seemed as though lashing out at the unexpecting wildlife of the Tirisfal Glades had brought the Dark Lady some modicum of peace. An unsettling thought for most people. 

But for Anevay, what actually happened next was so much worse. 

Sylvanas opened her eyes, the near peaceful look on her face swiftly shifting to one of absolute despair. Suddenly, she sank to her knees and began to weep. The were not the powerful, lethal cries of a banshee, but the simpering, nearly inaudible sobs of a clearly broken woman. Her hair was slicked back with the blood she shed so Anevay could see how completely lost and sorrowful she was. Anevay took a step out from the tree, intending to go down there. It was her first instinct. And yet, she paused. If she did go down there, Sylvanas would know she’d been watching. She would be put on the spot during an already weak and vulnerable moment. And Sylvanas _hated_ being seen when she was vulnerable.

No, she couldn’t do that. But… she had to do _something_.

Then an idea came to mind. Something she could possibly do to console her Queen. She turned and quietly retreated back toward the Undercity. It would be a while before Sylvanas returned, and she would need that time to prepare.

* * *

Sylvanas was completely numb as she stepped into her chambers. The large bedroom was unnecessary, but she had always preferred having a place where she could remove her mask and just… exist. It was over. She had thought she had the chance to reunite with her Little Moon, but she had stabbed her in the back. Served her right for hoping. For allowing herself to lower her defenses around the living. Vereesa had taken that show of weakness and pounced.

As she sat down in an armchair, she finally took notice of something sitting on her coffee table. A mug filled with a dark, greenish liquid that was practically steaming. It looked almost like tea. Beside it were a few biscuits that also had a faint greenish hue to them. They looked quite strange, and yet there was an energy surrounding them that she found practically enticing.

Beside the mug there was a note. She picked it up and unfurled it.

> _I got the sneaking suspicion you might need this tonight._
> 
> _\- Anevay_

Her crimson eyes widened a sliver, a hint of confusion and surprise bleeding into the solution of numbness within her mind. Her gaze turned to the mug, suddenly recognizing the concoction within as Felblood Elixir. That alone confirmed it. This was indeed sent by Anevay. But why? What was this ‘sneaking suspicion’ she had? She couldn’t be aware of what had happened, could she? Was this just another-

Sylvanas sighed, suddenly finding the paranoia that threatened to invade her thoughts to be utterly exhausting. She hadn’t the strength to ponder such questions. Not when that mug was too warm and soothing to resist. She grasped the handle in her shaky grasp, bringing the elixir to her lips. Almost immediately, the liquid soothed her. The numbness in her mind was replaced by a pleasant buzz. The weary ache throughout her body turned into a strangely satisfied fatigue. Like she had just spent herself running as fast and long as she could and her undead body was heavy with the labors of her triumph. She was still exhausted, but it was a pleasant exhaustion. 

She slid down in her chair and took another sip, feeling the fatigue become complimented by an almost pleasant warmth spreading through her chest. It was stronger than the last time, and Sylvanas’ earlier observation that the elixir looked like tea was perhaps not just an observation. She took more sips and felt everything in her body uncoil and relax. It was such a small thing, and yet she treasured it as she held the mug to her chest, watching the torches around the room flicker.

How long had it been since she sat down with a cup of tea? Too long. A literal lifetime ago, most likely. 

Her sorrow still hung over her, but the burden of her pain did not feel as intense as it had just moments ago. It was likely that this would come back to haunt her waking thoughts once the elixir had worn off, but for the time being, it was… manageable. She eyed the biscuits, taking one off the small tray. She could feel the thrum of Fel magic keeping the baked good warm in her grasp. The question of how Anevay managed such a thing faded to the back of her mind as she took a bite, savoring the subtle taste of butter as it graced her tongue. Ordinarily, food tasted like ash in her mouth. But through some kind of alchemical genius, Anevay had managed to overcome that.

She sat back and took another bite, letting out a pleased sigh as she ate. The biscuit didn’t appear to have the same intoxicating effect as the elixir, but it was… nice.

As she relaxed, truly relaxed, she was able to think about everything that had transpired with a clearer head. She had lost her sister. Her last chance at reuniting with her family. Vereesa was all she had left and now she was gone for good. She took another sip, the thoughts too distressing to truly process, and felt the warmth in her chest intensify. Her thoughts shifted to the mug in her hands, as well as the source. If it weren’t for Anevay’s seemingly random act of thoughtfulness, Sylvanas likely would have wallowed in her sorrow and bitterness until she could muster the will to come out and face the world again. This evening had already turned out more pleasant than she was expecting, even if the comfort was small. 

Anevay’s gesture was indeed very small, but the Banshee Queen couldn’t help but see it as grandiose. When she was at her lowest point, the blood elf gave her exactly what she needed. When she thought she was all alone, she truly wasn’t. That thought so perfectly encapsulated the Champion, she realized. The one person she could always count on. Something about that thought made the warmth within her grow even bolder. She thought about Anevay, her strength, her dedication, her loyalty and their friendship, and suddenly Sylvanas could have sworn that her long cold and dead heart gave off a beat.

She took another sip and laid her head back, holding the mug in her lap and running her finger along the rim. Anevay had been problematic when she first arrived, and blamed herself for the loss of half of Sylvanas’ Val’kyr. She had been reckless, impulsive, and easily undone by her emotions. Sylvanas thought back to many nights where she was reading over new damage reports or other consequences of the Warrior’s ferocity.

And yet she couldn’t help but think back to when she first tasted this elixir and had become so affected by it that Anevay had described her as ‘blood drunk.’ At that point, her poor impulse control had vanished and she had shown such caution when speaking to Sylvanas in her compromised state, despite being in a position where she could have asked anything of her and likely gotten it. On the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, Anevay was reckless and ruthless. In privacy, however, in Sylvanas’ most vulnerable state, she was gentle and cautious. She made sure the Dark Lady was as comfortable and cared for as possible. Even now, in the blood elf’s absence, that fact did not change. 

She popped the last of the biscuit in her mouth and washed it down with more elixir. By now she was starting to feel the full effects and her entire body was enveloped in this soothing, comforting warmth as the elixir’s fel magic coursed through her. It was so intense that Sylvanas thought she might actually fall asleep in the chair. She hadn’t felt warmth like this in a decade. A decade that felt like eons. As her eyes began to flutter closed, the warmth she experienced was beginning to feel like one of Anevay’s hugs. Something she could feel so acutely every time. Something that could very easily lull her into a state of absolute solace. She knew she wasn’t actually feeling one of those hugs right now, but that made her begin to long for it. Perhaps she could go find Anevay and-

She paused, suddenly losing the momentary urge to rise from her chair. No. She wasn’t ready to leave her chambers yet. She wasn’t even sure what she would truly say or do when she found Anevay. This concoction had a habit of lowering her inhibitions to an absurd degree. 

No. She would stay and enjoy the soothing haze for as long as it would last. After that? Who's to say?

**Author's Note:**

> To ship, or not to ship...


End file.
